Inner Monologue of a Could-Be Sportscaster

Note: This blog post was originally supposed to be about how I could be a sportscaster because most of the stuff they say is dumb and obvious and I think I could do better. But halfway through, I started to realize that it probably wasn't true. So I began to argue with myself. And instead of just deleting this post and starting over, I've decided to just let you see what it's like to be inside my brain for a couple of minutes. Enjoy.

You know how sometimes you look at someone else's really cool or high-paying job and you think to yourself, "I could totally do that!"?

There are usually two things that prompt you to say something like that:
1.) The job looks so simple that surely anyone with a brain could perform it
2.) The person who currently has the job is so terrible at it that you are convinced you couldn't possibly do any worse than they do.

When I watch sports, I can't help but think about #2 as I listen to the sportscasters.

When I was younger and didn't care as much about sports, I would listen to the sportscasters and think that they knew everything. But then I got older, watched games more often, and realized that it was more just the fact that I knew nothing that made them seem like they knew everything.

The vast majority of what they say is so painfully obvious that it's actually comical:

"I cannot stress enough the importance of every player playing their best in these playoff games."

"They really need to score here."

Or, they are spouting the most random statistics that have no actual meaning:

"This is the 5th time in the past 6 seasons that this team has been trailing by 7 or more points with 10 minutes left in the 2nd quarter."

Now, the thing is, while part of me is fairly certain that I could be a better sportscaster than at least half of all the people on the air, the other part of me asks, "well, how would you do that Jenny?"

And the answer is that I have no idea. I'm sure I would say the same dumb stuff they all say because it's hard to talk for 3 hours straight and not say something unintelligent or uninformed or stupid sounding. Sometimes I can't even say a single sentence without sounding like that. Like when someone wishes me a happy birthday and I say "Thanks! You too!" ...that's only 3 words and I still manage to mess it up.

Although, then again, I'm not getting paid to speak to people. Maybe I'd be more on top of my game if I were.

Note: The positive thing about this circular argument is that I now know what I'd do for my on-air act. I'd just argue with myself like I do in this blog. I'd be like those two heckling muppets but you'd only have to pay for one of me!

See?? I could totally do this sportscaster stuff.


"And then I said to myself, 'Kyle,' ....That's what I call myself. Kyle."
-Eric Matthews, Boy Meets World